Winter's Howl

The is something in last night's howling wind,

something pricking my conscious,

Trying reach across the gap.

There is something in the banshee sound,

Some anguish of multiplied souls,

Voices in a wilderness disguised

By the flotsam of western civilization,

Hidden by-multimedia pizzazz,

covered over by manicured lawns and brick facades.

There is something hidden away in far-off lands,

high tech battlefields, remote control killers,

Banana republicanism broughtto the twenty-first century,

Deththocracy loosed as it is on earth

Makes no room for heaven.


Ignore the blue. Don't know what's up with that